T'was the Night before Christmas: Hellsing Style
by deadpan riot
Summary: A mall seized, one very unlucky home destroyed, and a vampire in red getting quite the Christmas party.  Based VERY loosely on the poem of the same name. Rated for dark themes. note: Alucard's party isn't the kind you get balloons for, FYI...


a/n: I started this around Christmas time, and just now finished it. I had wanted to make a holiday sort of story, and was somewhat inspired by an interesting redo of t'was the night before Christmas my mother's boyfriend concocted. Although the rhyme scheme changes as it goes, moving away from out-right mimicking the original to being loosely based on it's skeleton. So while it's not even December, I bring you this twisted holiday fic, Hellsing style.

disclaimer: I own nothing, and what I do own, namely the rhymes, I'm not too sure I want to claim...

**WARNING: This is NOT a happy story. It's rated M because while T'was the Night before Christmas may be a nice little children's story, this is not. Although it's relatively tame for my standards, I'm fully aware that MY standards and the standards of others are two different things. Thus, compulsory warning. That said, you've been warned, kiddies. Enjoy ;D**

T'was the Night before Christmas: Hellsing Style

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><p>The mall, a place of joyous wonder and overpriced goods, where teenagers loitered and old people power walked. It was a place full of light, and sound no matter the time of day. But not this day, not this particular mall. The power had failed halfway through the night, the sounds of laughter choked off and replaced. Hell had seized this humble building, the dead rising, and recruiting.<p>

The vast space echoed with the moans of ghouls, men and women who had only hours ago been busy buying last minute gifts for loved ones. Now the shopping bags lay forgotten, toys and jewelry crying out for reclamation, only to have their pleas fall on uncaring ears.

_T'was the night before Christmas, and all through the mall, not a creature was left living, not even dear old Paul…._

"All right Alucard, the men are in position. Find the monster responsible for this and _silence him_."

The master vampire bowed, purring out a "Yes Master" before vanishing into the gloom. Only when out of sight of her did he once again regain his form, walking serenely through the rows of parked cars towards his destination. The lot was utterly devoid of life, the great metal beasts awaiting masters that would never return. Behind him, the 'base of operations' Integra had set up, before him, the enemies lair. And to the side, three stories up, the Police Girl and her trusty sniper rifle. Alucard grinned. It was just another day in the neighborhood. Their very, very fucked up neighborhood.

The barriers the Wild Geese had erected to keep the monsters within barely affected him as he phased inside. He was neither happy, nor entirely certain how he managed to wind up wearing a god-awful pink dress like an apron once through, but he blamed the humans. And their pile of crap sitting oh so innocently in front of the door. He tore the offending article from his person, dropping it unceremoniously on the bloodied floor. Once this was over, he was going to have to teach them a lesson on proper barricades. In the barracks. With their belongings.

_The bodies were flung to the floor without care, for soon they would rise at the behest of their master…._

The darkness was peppered with muzzle-fire, illuminating the hoards of decaying shoppers. Little had changed for them, save the lack of a heartbeat, and a not-quite-so-new craving for flesh. The Geese dropped them with ease, but still more came. Only those who basked in the Dead Rising feel of the mission pressed on with gusto. Everyone else just wished Alucard would hurry up so they could get back to their Christmas binge drinking.

_The children were all huddled at the feet of a man, the sight of Santa beneath his boot filling their eyes with pure dread…._

Alucard eyed the center of the mall with disdain. Everything was covered in gaudy decorations, including the ghouls standing guard. He eyed the 'elves' and 'reindeer', wondering when exactly it was that children had become so damned stupid. Or blind. He paused momentarily to consider the possibility that human children, like puppies, lived the first part of their lives blind, unable to figure out how to properly use their eyes. As the thought finished itself, he realized he'd managed to make a complete circle back to the conclusion of 'they're just damned stupid'.

With a slight shake of his head to banish the idiocy he'd momentarily brought upon himself, Alucard pulled the Casull from his coat and began eliminating the cause of that particular thought process. They fell with all the grace of drunken teenagers, and he turned it into a game to see how much of the decor he could take out using his victims.

The final shot was fired, sending its recipient head over heels into a rather large Christmas tree. The pine fell with a creak and a crash, ornaments shattering and needles dislodging to scatter every which way. The nosferatu merely smirked, eyes glowing devilishly as he stalked slowly towards the center of the display. The crunch of debris beneath his boots rang out ominously, his growing proximity to the small group of still-living children causing their whimpers to grow.

_While mamma in her best dress, and daddy in his slacks took their little floor nap the children felt unrest, for out of the darkness came a storm like no other, the Bogeyman appearing to lay waste to his 'brother'…_

Alucard locked eyes with the pathetic excuse of a vampire before him. The man was sprawled out in the ornate chair resting atop a platform, feet propped up on another man's back. He was spattered with red, as if to celebrate the season, pillow feathers stuck comically to the gore on his shoes.

"Ho, ho, _ho_." The last 'ho' accented with the thud of boot-on-spine, feathers gaining the air as they were forced from the pillow in the prone man's jacket. "And what would you like for Christmas, _little boy_?"

Alucard met the vampire's nasty grin with one of his own. He had no idea what children generally answered when asked such a question, not having been one for near half a millennia or more. Not to mention he was still a bit fuzzy on the whole 'Christmas' thing. So, he settled on his immediate goal. "Your ugly head on a decorative platter would do nicely." The silver hand cannon he called a gun was raised, but lo, he was too slow.

_To the floor he fell as a pile of red spatter, torn through with bullet holes his gun arm dislodged and landed with a clatter…_

The grin never left his lips as his body was torn apart by machine gun fire, tearing him to pieces. His body crumpled, the children cried, the vampire laughed, pointing the smoking barrel of his gun at the mess on the floor. "Merry fucking Christmas!"

The children cowered as their captor cackled, none noticing the unnatural way the darkness churned and twisted.

_The shadows lurking in corners were drawn to the gore, giving shape to the horror found only in lore; Before their wary gazes the darkness did grow, littered with eyes burning with the fires of hell below, and familiars did come from outside and in, bringing with them the knowledge that no other could win…_

The vampire's glee turned to disbelief and horror as the shadowy mass on the floor pulsed and grew, insects appearing from their hiding places to sacrifice themselves to its growth. The large glass window above shattered, raining shards down indiscriminately upon the heads of all present. A mass of black wings blocked out the sky, wheeling and crying as they fell to the floor, swooping and turning to create a twister of solid mass. The bats and bugs found themselves swallowed by the hungry column rising from the floor, ecstatic shrieks dying as they were consumed. Countless eyes snapped open wherever there was room, fixating their burning gaze on the terrified man atop the throne.

Children screamed, tripping over themselves as they fled the monstrous maw that took shape. The vampire perched on the throne of lies was too slow to react as the jaws rushed him. His scream of terror was muffled as fangs sunk into his chest, swallowing him from the shoulders upward. With a squelch and a crack, his body was torn in two, lower half tumbling to the stairs to spill its contents at the nosferatu's feet.

Slowly the rest of Alucard reformed itself from the shadow mass, the last thing to return the arm that had been the beast's head. The vampire let loose a stream of maniacal mirth that echoed in the now silent mall, unnerving even the seasoned soldiers that had become accustomed to it.

_But lo the night t'was not at an end, for while they had been distracted Mr. Santa had fled…_

Alucard appeared at his master's summons, his grin never faltering in the face of her fury.

"You let the other one flee, Alucard. He escaped Ms. Victoria's fire, and now he's out there doing God knows what!" Integra pointed her cigar threateningly in his face. "Take Seras and _find_ him, before he manages to do more damage than the other already has!"

Alucard bowed, his outline blurring. "Yes, my Master."

_In the depths of suburbia where no one dared heed the screams, the house that was lit upon was the one shunned from the moon's beams…._

The house looked like every other house on the block, sleepy and nondescript. If one didn't count the barely audible sobs and the coppery tang of blood that permeated the air.

The two vampires stood on the walk in front of the door, Seras hugging her rifle to her chest and Alucard still grinning like a loon.

"I'm not sure I want to see what's in there, Master…"

"Come now, Police Girl, I'm not fond of suburban mothers' decorative tastes either, but you don't see me being a child about it."

Seras scoffed in exasperation, staring after her master as he walked straight up to the door, stopped, and tilted his head up toward the roof. She followed his gaze, eyes landing on what was clearly a chimney.

_And so it would be to the rooftop he would soar, for coming in through the front door was such a bore…_

Before she could find the words to dissuade him, Alucard had leapt easily to the lip of the chimney. The moon was covered over by a lone cloud, the glint of his fangs and lenses snuffed out even to her eyes. The black mass perched on the chimney shifted, disappearing in the blink of an eye. The draculina sighed, making her way as slowly as possible to the door she knew she'd eventually have to enter.

_Down the chimney came a cackle filled with malice and mirth, demanding those below prove their self-proclaimed worth…_

Pausing in his twisted endeavors, the murderous mall Santa glanced toward the fireplace. Ash trickled down onto the carpet, the sound of something scraping against bricks putting the man on edge.

_The demonic St. Nick cried out in surprise, for out of the chimney fell a man with death in his eyes; Wearing suit of fine cut with hat, coat, and glasses of brilliant red, the being announced his presence with a nod of his head; He paid no mind to the soot on his lapels or the dust in his hair, he had a mission to fulfill which he would with great care…_

A plume of soot cascaded from the chimney to the floor. Seconds later Alucard followed, his form partially hidden by shadows until they shifted and flew from him. Bats, screeching as they sought a route of escape back into the night were they belonged. He had landed in a crouch, ignoring the familiar's he had summoned for dramatic effect. With an evil grin, he stepped lightly from the already destroyed fireplace. Ash fell from his straightening form, trickling from the brim of his hat as the vampire tilted his head, observing the sight before him.

The once pristine living room was now covered in ash, but it was hardly noticeable in comparison to the blood. It soaked the carpet and stained the furniture. Once white walls now varying shades of vermillion, whorls and splatters creating a twisted abstract mural, the ceiling dripping crimson tears.

Brightly wrapped boxes were scattered and smashed, the decorative mat they once sat on pulled from beneath the tree and wound around what he assumed to be two bodies. The four legs spilling out of the bottom were a bit of a giveaway.

Alucard brought his gaze back to the man standing gleefully in the center of it all. The Santa suit he wore so covered in grime it was no longer red, coat sagging and swaying now that the stuffing it usually held was gone. The rogue mall Santa was eyeing him warily, paused almost comically in the midst of his 'present' wrapping.

With deliberate slowness he drew the Casull from his coat, curious to see how his opponent would react.

_Pistol he drew from the depths of his pocket, catching the slide in his teeth and moving his hand to cock it; His irises-how they burned! Like two dying suns they seemed, horrific mouth widening with glee, the fangs he flashed as white as his skin, and oh how in the light they gleamed;_

Alucard looked on in amusement as the vampire's eyes crossed, staring at the gun barrel mere feet from his face. Yet still the monster didn't seem to have the sense to fight back, or even move. If vampires could piss themselves, then he imagined that's what the idiot would be occupying himself with.

In no way wishing to reveal his displeasure at the lack of challenge, Alucard merely widened his grin until it consumed his face, and pulled the trigger.

_The massive gun he lowered to his side, the body opposite dropping with gravity as a guide; Riddled with holes tears and cuts, the man graced the family's carpet with his disemboweled guts. The vampire laughed in spite of himself, his enemy should have known such endeavors were bad for one's health; For those who dare defy the Master of Monster must face the No Life King, devourer of souls that cares not for others' well being. _

A fine mist of blood lingered in the air, clinging to his clothing. The scent of gunpowder burned his noise but he ignored it, dropping the now empty clip unceremoniously on the floor. The rush he'd felt as he'd emptied his gun into the pathetic excuse of a vampire was fading, swiftly bringing about the boredom that signaled the end of a mission.

"Master…"

He glanced over at Seras, who'd slipped in through the door just in time to witness the execution of the faux Santa. "What, Police Girl?"

Seras bit her lip, looking nervously between him and an arm chair in the corner. "Did you have to be so violent? The little boy…" She trailed off at the look directed her way, motioning instead to the piece of furniture that was out of place.

Compliantly, Alucard turned his attention to the corner, for the first time noticing that the chair seemed to sobbing.

_The little boy spoke not a word as he was pulled from out behind the chair, instead he sobbed his heart out unable to bear…_

A few soft words and Seras had managed to retrieve the boy of no more than five from his hiding place. He clung desperately to her, burying his face in her neck to block out the sight of the monster on the other side of the room. Rubbing his back in an attempt to comfort him, Seras went to turn her attention back to her master in the hopes of scolding him, only to have the half formed words die on her lips. She and the kid were alone, Alucard having disappeared when her attention was diverted.

With a sigh, Seras focused her attention back to the task of calming the child in her arms. It would do no good to stay inside, so as discreetly as possible she slipped from the house, finding a relatively sheltered nook on the roof between two bay windows. Now she just had to wait until the clean-up crew arrived.

"What a bloody mess this night turned out to be…Some Christmas."

In the distance she could make out a dark blob in the sky she was almost certain was Alucard, the ghost of laughter whispering tellingly in her ear.

_With the end of the mission the night returned to silence, Christmas day had arrived welcomed in by excessive violence. While many would remember this holiday with laughter and good cheer, all those poor little children would look back on it with fear; Though the mission was completed and Alucard got his kicks, how many minds had he tainted with a poor image of ol' St. Nick? Not that the Nosferatu would care of course, if you mentioned it to him he'd probably laugh himself hoarse. _

_And with that I say Happy Christmas to all if you dare go to sleep, for the Bogeymen are always creeping, looking to take the innocence they know you cannot keep._

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><p>an: not gonna lie, all that rhyming fucked with my head a little. I actively had to make sure the story itself didn't start doing it. I know some of the rhymes aren't all that great, mostly where I was trying to take an original line and change it to my needs. Ah well. This wasn't all that dark, was it? Or am I too desensitized? I mean, it's not like I had all the little kids being murdered...

and on that note, I'm just gonna go over there.

deadpan_riot


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